


Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

by GrizzlyBear1710



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Christmas Fluff, F/F, Frozen (Disney Movies) References, Snow, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21908596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrizzlyBear1710/pseuds/GrizzlyBear1710
Summary: When Clarke and Lexa are both meant to be working the early shift at Starbucks having never really spoken, they were both dreading it. Then, when a stranger enters telling them there will be a snowstorm, their luck seems to worsen. However, they're both relieved of their work duties when their manager rings, returning to Clarke's place to have some fun in the snow.Or,A coffee shop au involving a horde of Frozen references, dancing and singing, snowball fights, and building snowmen in the back garden.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 3
Kudos: 76





	Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

It was too early for Clarke to be walking into work. The sky was still dark, and streetlights glared down on the pavement. Also, it didn’t help that the early shift was herself and Lexa, a girl at her University who she barely knew but who came across as a bitch. As if her day so far couldn’t get any worse, it began snowing. Usually, Clarke loved the snow, having snowball fights and making snow angels, but when she was stuck inside a Starbucks with a co-worker who she’d said no more than a sentence to, it felt like a punishment. At least they were in a coffee shop where they could keep warm. Every cloud, she thought. 

When Clarke reached the coffee shop, the pavements and fields around were blanketed in snow. Pulling the keys out of her inside pocket, Clarke looked around for the brunette. She was nowhere in sight. If that woman doesn’t turn up, Clarke thought, she’d go to her house personally and smack her. Eventually, she managed to open the stiff lock with her key and enter. She was ten minutes early, meaning Lexa had ten minutes before Clarke was going to give her a very angry phone call. What limited knowledge Clarke did have of this woman was that she was never late. 

Nevertheless, five minutes later as Clarke was sat at a table reading a newspaper, she was surprised to find Lexa turning up at the door. What was surprising was that the brunette had a small running backpack on; was dressed in entirely running clothes; and jogged into the coffee shop. Clarke sighed, she was going to be working with this woman all day, so she might as well make an effort with her. 

“Do not tell me you just ran here in the snow? At six in the morning?” Lexa glanced up at her with a confused expression on her face. Then, she plucked her Bluetooth earphones out of her ears. Clarke nearly facepalmed. 

“Sorry, did you say something?” Lexa asked. 

“Oh, I, um, just asked if you’d run here,” said Clarke, realising now how stupid it sounded. 

Lexa smiled, slinging her backpack onto a nearby table and asking, “How did you guess?” 

Clarke matched her sarcasm, “Honestly, it was the weather. Who wouldn’t want to go running in snow like this?” 

“Touché,” said Lexa, before excusing herself to get changed. 

By the time Clarke turned the sign over from ‘closed’ to ‘open,’ she turned around to be met with the brunette still buttoning up her shirt. Clarke didn’t have time to redirect her gaze before she caught a glimpse not only of Lexa’s sports bra, but also of her sculpted abs. Hm, that was a surprise, thought Clarke.

“And we are open for business,” said Clarke, cringing at her lame attempt at conversation. 

“Woo,” Lexa said lacking any enthusiasm at all. She placed her apron on and stood behind the counter. When Clarke looked up at her, Lexa plastered on her great customer service smile, which was the fakest smile ever from ear to ear paired with a pair of green, dead eyes. The blonde sputtered with laughter. 

“You know, you look so approachable, I think I might even ask you to make me my first coffee of the day. You just look like you love your job so much!” mocked Clarke. 

“Oh, of course, Miss. What can I get for you?” said Lexa, keeping up her pretence with her voice all chipper. It really didn’t suit her, Clarke thought, which made it even more hilarious. 

“Vanilla latte, please. How much will that be?” 

“For you, pretty lady, it’s on the house,” said Lexa with a charming wink. Laughing, Clarke rolled her eyes. 

“For the sake of you keeping your job, I really hope I’m the only one you’ve ever said that to,” Clarke joked. 

Surprisingly, Lexa made Clarke’s order, even adding a touch of chocolate on top of the cream in the shape of a snowman. Almost instinctively, Clarke began humming the tune of the song from Frozen ‘Do You Want to Build a Snowman?’ 

“Good film,” Lexa commented with a curt nod. 

“Shall we play the soundtrack?” asked Clarke. 

“Do I even need to answer that?” said Lexa, connecting her phone to the speakers and searching on her Spotify for the album. 

An hour and a half later, Clarke nor Lexa would necessarily say that business was booming. No one had come in so far, leaving Clarke and Lexa to fill awkward silences with snippets of conversation. Huffing, Clarke retreated to her table where she continued reading the newspaper when ‘Love is an Open Door’ came on. So far, the two women had been getting along well, and Lexa didn’t seem to be the sort of person who embarrassed easily, so Clarke decided to test her luck. 

“Okay, can I just, say something crazy?” Clarke imitated Ana’s voice. 

Lexa’s head snapped up, just in time to say, “I love crazy!” Clarke was in. 

“All my life has been a series of doors in my face  
And then suddenly I bump into you,” sang Clarke, jumping up from her seat. 

“I was thinking the same thing! ‘Cause like  
I’ve been searching my whole life to find my own place  
And maybe it’s the party talking or the chocolate fondue,” sang Lexa. Clarke laughed, because they were both awful singers, but owned it. Besides, she was having fun. Probably the most fun she’d had the whole six months she’d worked there. 

Although Lexa was an awful singer, she wasn’t a poor dancer. She was able to swing Clarke around like she weighed nothing and skip around the chairs and tables like she was floating. Clarke was oddly impressed. The blonde, on the other hand, had two left feet, tripping over chair legs and over Lexa. Every time though, Lexa was there to catch her and swing her back on her feet. For the first time in forever (no joke intended), Clarke felt light, and…happy. Since her dad died, she’d only experienced glimmers of happiness, too far to grasp, but now, with a huge smile on her face, being spun around by Lexa and singing at the top of her lungs, she felt truly happy. So happy that she failed to notice a customer entering. 

Once the song was done, and Clarke and Lexa were staring into each other’s eyes singing the final notes, they both jumped at the sound of clapping. Spinning around, they were faced with the smirking face of a woman about the same age as the two workers in a red bomber jacket. 

“You two are cute,” said the woman, “I feel bad for interrupting.” The workers let go of one another, and Lexa smoothed down her apron, running behind the counter. 

“Sorry, what can I get for you?” asked Lexa. 

“A song and dance similar to the one you just had with blondie,” tried the customer. 

Smirking in return, Lexa said, “But I don’t even know your name.” 

“Raven. But, before the performance, I’ll need some energy in the form of a black coffee.”

Clarke wasn’t sure why, but when Raven had asked for a dance, and Lexa hadn’t refused, she felt her heart drop to her stomach. Trying to distract herself from the flirty comments being thrown between the two brunettes over the counter, Clarke looked around for something, anything to busy herself with. However, considering Raven was their first and only customer so far, Clarke had nothing to do. Never had she thought that she’d be desperate for work. 

Just as Lexa handed Raven the coffee cup, Raven glanced outside and saw that the snow was building up fast. 

“I’m sorry to scupper our show plans, but could you make that coffee to go? I really need to get back to work before this snowstorm barricades me in here,” said Raven. 

“Wait, snowstorm?” Clarke asked as Lexa poured the contents into a take-away cup. 

“Yeah, didn’t you guys hear? There’s meant to be a huge snowstorm today and the news is advising that everyone remain indoors. It’ll be one that lasts a full day apparently,” said 

Raven with a shrug, retrieving her coffee from Lexa. “Anyway, have a good one. Maybe I’ll see you later,” she added with a wink, scurrying back to her car. 

“A snowstorm, huh,” said Lexa, slumping her shoulders. 

“Maybe it won’t be as bad as Raven suggested,” Clarke said with a shrug.

It definitely was as bad as what Raven suggested. In fact, it was worse. Much, much worse. Not one person had even walked past Starbucks, never mind came in. The roads and pavements leading to the shop were completely deserted. With every passing hour, the snow just got heavier and heavier. Eventually, Clarke received a phone call from their boss, Jaha. 

“Hey, you can close up. You two better head home before the snow sticks, okay? I’ll pay you for a full day’s work, but just get yourselves home and warm. See you after Christmas!” and he hung up. Clarke couldn’t argue with that. 

“Hey, we’re relieved of our duties,” Clarke said to Lexa who was scrolling through her phone. 

“Great! Let me just get changed,” she said, disappearing hurriedly into the staff room. 

While Lexa was getting changed, Clarke disconnected her colleague’s phone from the speakers, then had an idea. She plugged in her own and set up the perfect song. When she heard the staff room door click shut and the sound of footsteps approaching, she pressed play. 

“Lexa?” sang Clarke, and Lexa stood still, awaiting Clarke’s next words, “Do you want to build a snowman?” 

The women crashed out of the double doors, locking up the Starbucks and trudged through the ankle-deep snow. Although it was cold and wet, the view before them was beautiful. 

“Okay, but seriously, it’s only eleven and it’s not going to stop snowing anytime soon. So, genuinely, do you want to build a snowman?” asked Clarke. 

“Do you not want to get out of your work clothes?” Lexa questioned. 

“Good point. We could walk back to mine then build a snowman in my garden?” Clarke suggested. 

“You don’t mind me coming around to yours? You hardly know me.”

“Lexa, we shared a moving song and dance and a five-hour shift consisting of one customer. We bonded.” 

Smiling fondly, Lexa nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

Patiently, Lexa waited downstairs of the house Clarke shared with her friend Octavia, and Octavia’s brother, Bellamy while Clarke got changed. She ran downstairs in black leggings, trainers, a hoodie and coat. They shared a smile then ran outside like giddy children. 

The snowman they made was pretty big. He had a carrot nose, twigs for arms and stones for eyes and a mouth. He looked a little menacing though, Clarke admitted. 

“I’m very impressed with our work,” said Lexa, taking a step back, “What was your degree in again?” 

“Art,” said Clarke bashfully. 

Lexa scratched her chin thoughtfully, dramatically looking at the snowman from different angles before saying, “Hmm yes, very good. It really paints a picture of the turmoil snowmen face in contemporary society with increased Global Warming and societal pressure of unrealistic body images.” 

“Ha, ha,” Clarke mocked, “what was your degree again? Art critique?” 

“No, that’s just a skill,” said Lexa, grinning, “English literature and politics.” 

Suddenly, Lexa was hit firmly in the shoulder by something hard and cold: A snowball. Clutching at her shoulder in mock agony, she screamed aloud, dramatically stumbling backwards. 

“Really?” said Clarke, “You’re not doing a performing arts degree? I don’t believe that.” She was laughing too hard at her own joke to fail to notice the snowball flying straight at her chest. This meant war. 

Each woman took up base on either side of the garden, building snowballs. Clarke glanced over her shoulder at her opponent, noticing that Lexa wasn’t making snowballs anymore. She’d began constructing a wall: Smart. Clarke kicked herself for not thinking of the same idea. There was no time now though. While Lexa’s wall was still under construction, Clarke launched an onslaught of snowballs at the woman, catching her off guard. Lexa ducked behind her tiny wall and picked up the few snowballs she’d made. She popped her head up like a meerkat in a hole, and, noticing that the blonde was continuing to make snowballs, threw one of her own powerfully straight at Clarke’s back. 

Their snowball fight was legendary – at least in Clarke’s eyes – lasting for forty-five minutes before they eventually their hands got too cold to make anymore snowballs. When they trudged back into Clarke’s house, they were drenched through their clothes and shivering. Clarke invited Lexa to shower first while she lit the log fire. Fifteen minutes later, as Clarke had just turned on the TV, Lexa shouted down to the blonde. Clarke was confused; Lexa sounded…embarrassed. 

Taking the stairs two at a time, Clarke finally reached the landing to find Lexa stood in merely a towel that was way too short for her, revealing long, tanned and toned legs. Her hair was wrapped up in another towel, but still a few drops of water trickled down her neck. Subconsciously, Clarke lipped her lips. 

“Um, I don’t have any spare clothes other than my work uniform,” said Lexa quietly. 

“Oh, sorry, Lexa I didn’t even think about that,” Clarke admitted. She disappeared into her room, resurfacing minutes later with a pair of joggers, a t-shirt, a hoodie and some fluffy socks. Lexa held the towel up with one hand as she used her other to accept the clothes from Clarke, muttering a bashful ‘thank you.’ 

Clarke completely forgot about her own coldness when she saw Lexa re-emerge from the bathroom mere minutes later, dressed head-to-toe in her clothes. Clarke was gobsmacked. The attire was simple casualwear, but there was something so…intimate about another person wearing your clothes. It was clear that Lexa felt that way too, smiling shyly. 

“These are the most comfortable clothes I’ve ever worn,” she said, “especially this hoodie. I hope you realise you’re not getting this back.” Clarke didn’t even care; Lexa wore it better than her anyway. 

Once they were both showered and changed, they sat downstairs on the same sofa under the same blanket. They were watching a Christmas film, but soon it was replaced by Christmas music on the radio. The snow was still falling as the sun began to set. Clarke’s hands were tangled in Lexa’s damp, curly hair, while Lexa’s hands rested on Clarke’s waist, their lips moving in perfect synchrony. Every now and then, they’d break their kiss to smile, rest their foreheads together and catch their breath. Their kissing continued, growing more passionate as the radio played, rather ironically, ‘Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!’


End file.
